Lovesprung by the mafia king

I was finally getting my chance to prove my worth in the family "business". To prove I can handle anything and make deals happen. That I would be a strong, reliable Boss, and fill my Papa's shoes once he handed it over to me. We were the strongest family along the East Coast. You name it, our hands were in it. Guns, drugs, clubs, restaurants, strip clubs, and the list goes on.

I had my first kill at 16. Now that I'm 25 I've lost count as the bodies piled up. My first kill though...The bastard thought he would snitch us out. Feeding info to the Latinos, in hopes of having Papa's assassinated.

I won't lie, I enjoyed watching the Bastard take his last breath as I twisted my knife through his heart. I live by one law and one law only...Don't betray me or my family.

So, here I am in Alabama, going to some bomb fucked town in hopes of talking some old fucker out of his land for next to nothing. Clear the land and Papa up another strip mall or some shit. Hopefully, he'll see things my way and I won't need to resort to less friendly tactics.

"Damn it's hotter than a motherfucker down here" I mumbled to myself as I blasted the ac on this piece of shit rental car I was given at the airport. Sure It gets hot in Chicago, but this heat here in the South is pure torture. Not to mention dodging potholes big enough to swallow my car.

I'd been traveling down this lone country road for miles now. Not a soul in sight. Pastures on either side. And that's when it happened.

It started off as a soft clanking that quickly grew to a vibrating bang. "What the fuck" I growled as I maneuvered the car to the side of the road where it finally died.

"Motherfucking great" I yelled smacking the steering wheel. I tried the ignition a few times, but all I got was the sound of a smoker's lung. popping the hood, I exited the car.

As I raised the hood, smoke boiled out. I fanned it away and took a look at the motor. I may as well have been looking at a chart of the human anatomy. What can I say...I'm the soon-to-be mob boss, not a fucking mechanic.

Grabbing my phone from the seat I went to search for a tow, but quickly realized I had no reception out here in the boondocks. Tossing my phone back down, I started to pace, thinking of my next move. I tried my phone a few more times and realized my only option was to trot my ass down this road until I found something.

I grabbed my duffel bag, opened my suitcase, and grabbed a few essentials. Grabbed my phone and almost empty water bottle and started my walk. Trust and believe this was no fucking yellow brick road and I sure the hell wasn't any Angelica....Maybe the Tin Man.

Twenty minutes into my walk I was drenched. My suit jacket draped over my shoulder, sleeves rolled up as far as they'd go, I mumbled "I must be in hell" as I loosened my tie and freed a few buttons.

As I was thinking of ways to kill the rental car fucktard a jeep came flying past me. It came to a screeching stop and I saw the reverse lights Papa on. Quickly I reached into the back of my waistband and took my gun off safety, just in case.

The jeep came to a stop beside me and I saw that it was two girls.

The driver smiled and spoke in a deep southern accent. "You need a lift?" I glanced at the passenger who was busy studying her nails and popping her gum in the most annoying way.